


Improvisational Celebratory Holiday Tactics, for Beginners

by alemara



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alemara/pseuds/alemara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Did you break into my apartment just to have Christmas Eve?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improvisational Celebratory Holiday Tactics, for Beginners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Si_Crazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Si_Crazy/gifts).



> Gifted to sicrazy on Tumblr, for Secret Santa, from me, (scottishheroine).
> 
> Early days of Steve and Cath, celebrating Christmas! Mele Kalikimaka, Si!

On the list of things she expects to find in her quarters after nearly twenty-four hours away from them, a.) a Christmas tree on her kitchen table or b.) Steve decorating said tree would not even be in the top hundred.

The stocking stuffed with candy and tacked onto her door was a surprise, too.

He looks up, guiltily, from where he’s fashioning tinfoil into a tree-topping star. It glitters in the light of a hundred twinkling LEDs strung carefully over fragrant branches as she stares at him.

"Did you break into my apartment just to have Christmas Eve?"

"Maybe." It's elusive. “Shift over?”

“Twelve hours. Someone’s gotta watch the skies for Santa.” She taps a tiny branch, arches an eyebrow. “Is this rosemary?”

“They don’t really have readily available miniature balsams."

"You have something against standard issue?"

He shrugs. "I improvised.”

“Well, I love it.” His eyes drift above her head. She follows his glance up, laughs at the optimistic sprig of mistletoe. "Seriously? Does that actually work for you?"

That innocent lift to his brows gets her every single time, and she shakes her head before stretching onto her toes to kiss his cheek, so as not to screw with convention and call down some horrifying Ghost of Christmas _Where’s-Your-Sense-of-Tradition, Catherine?_ “Don’t press your luck, sailor. I want a shower, and when I come back --”

She levels a finger at him, eyes sparkling. “There better be more under that tree than a bare kitchen table.”

He snaps to attention, salutes, cheeky. “Mele Kalikimaka, Cath.”

That deserves another kiss, and a softening of her smile as she moves away, and he bends back to his task. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”


End file.
